The only homework I ever received from my therapist (it was more of a recommendation) was to read one of two books - Trapped in the Mirror: Adult Children of Narcissists in Their Struggle for Self, or Children of the Self-Absorbed: A Grown-Up's Guide to Getting Over Narcissistic Parents. I read them both.
Trapped in the Mirror was especially memorable as it shined light on how the hatred a narcissist gives others is only part of that which they give themselves. Trapped in self-obsession, fearful of loss, scared to be found as fraud, a narcissist projects onto the world that which they give themselves, but don't want to receive.
The following was taken from Trapped in the Mirror:
He spoke in conspiratorial tones. His voice was grieving yet angry. "Your grandmother always loved you." This must be part of her deficiency, since she was unable to feel that love. "Your not attending the funeral was..." He was searching for the perfect weapon. She felt the knife poised above her with the satisfaction of one about to be immolated. "... it showed that you really are ... unable to love anyone."
...
Years later, after many years of psychotherapy, she come to a realization. Amid tears of joy she sees that she loves. She has always loved. Her father, confronted by his mother's deathbed, found himself unable to feel for the person who had been closest to him. How could he avoid accusing himself of heartlessness--unless he could put the fault onto a scapegoat. His daughter was to be sacrificed. He was safe.
The person who could not love was really he.
These paragraphs spoke to me. Because for all the shitty things my mother has ever said to me, I realized she was speaking more to herself. I realized, we give others that which we give ourselves. I wondered, if this is what she is saying to me, what is she saying to herself? I feel bad, I at least can walk away from her, she cannot.
For the first time, I was able to see this glimmer of something. A toxin glued to our insides, passed around, but never acknowledged. It was there and it was ugly. I tried to point at it, but my family didn't want to look. They ignored.
But where did it come from? It came from our past, our story, our life. The abuse my mother received is now what's being passed on. As I first started uncovering this intergenerational trauma for myself, I have to admit, my first thought was "Really? But we have it so good."
My mom did a great job of convincing us "everything is fine." Financially, we were fine, familywise, we were fine, emotionally, we were fine. In fact, we were often more than fine, we were doing amazing. I knew she didn't really have a good relationship with her mother, and of course I picked up on the fact that we were not necessarily always "fine," but Trauma? No way. That's heavy. We don't have trauma.
As I started to hear stories though, I had to come to terms with this trauma. Again, it didn't happen immediately, but understanding the concept was helpful.
The reality is that trauma has been passed down through my family's generations. Self-hatred is like an heirloom we give each of our kids, but none of them wants. They receive it, feel its pain, then give it to the next. *why couldn't diamonds have been passed down? or at least a crappy cardboard box business? anything would have been better than this.*
Why continue it though? The cycle must be broken.
References:
Trapped in the Mirror: Adult Children of Narcissists in Their Struggle for Self by Elan Golomb, PhD
Children of the Self-Absorbed: A Grown-Up's Guide to Getting Over Narcissistic Parents by Nina W Brown, EdD LPC
It Didn't Start With You: How Inherited Family Trauma Shapes Who We Are and How to End the Cycle by Mark Wolynn
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